


A collection of my Doctor Who rambles

by nantro



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (TV Movie 1996)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, Other, grace and 8 are friends, i was VERY tired when i wrote this, sorry if it seems ooc i try
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:48:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27206137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nantro/pseuds/nantro
Summary: this is probably where im going to store my doctor who things from now on
Relationships: Eighth Doctor/Grace Holloway





	A collection of my Doctor Who rambles

**Author's Note:**

> this is one of the things i wrote at 3 am because it was desperately stuck in my head, I've no idea if I'm going to continue this truthfully

December 31st, 2000

It’d become a ritual of his, getting into trouble. Those who traveled with him knew as such, but Grace never did. He respected her wishes and went on his way, although part of him wished she had come with him that night in 1999.

It was early in the morning, at 6 o’clock at most. The TARDIS materialized outside of a familiar home, on a familiar flowerbed. The door opened, and he stepped out, trampling a flower or two. “Oh, I’m sorry about that.” The Doctor squatted down, intertwining the stem of the flower between two fingers. Soon enough, the flower repaired itself, regenerated, in a way. The Doctor pulled his hand back, shushing the plant. “Keep it a secret, just between us.” He pushed himself up, feeling his coat for the key before closing the door to the TARDIS. “Look at me, being sentimental. Such a bad influence, Old Girl.” 

He pats the side of the Police Box, it returned a quiet groan. “I meant it in a good sense!” He laughed, stepping away from the Box to look over at the door. Part of him felt guilty, coming back into her life after leaving. “Sentimental..” He ruffled his coat, a properly tailored version of his ‘Wild Bill Hickok’ costume, borrowed from 1999. The Doctor took a step forward, pressing a finger to the doorbell of Grace’s home. “Grace? Are you awake? I’d feel so rude if I was to wake you!” He pocketed his hands as the door opened, Grace poked her head through the small crack in the door. “Doct..or?” She smiled, then laughed for a moment. “Doctor! What are you doing here? I thought you were off.. exploring space and time!” She undid the chain on the door, pulling it open. “Ah, well, that is a benefit to being a time traveler, Grace.” He barely finished before Grace jumped at him to envelop him in a hug. He slowly returned it, patting her back. “I would have invited Lee, but he’s out of town.” She pulled back slightly, looking up to him. “Good choice, wonder who gave him the idea?” He smirked, and she laughed again. Playfully pushing him. He moved to place a hand on his arm, grinning now. “Ow!” She pulled away from the hug, raising a brow before chortling and showing him inside. The house was far more furnished than the last time he was there. If memory serves, Brian had taken her furniture. “Glad to see you’ve recovered, although I will miss the roominess it had before.” She rolled her eyes, pulling out a chair for The Doctor. “Someone had to move on, ‘Wild Bill’.” Grace teased, as he looked down at his attire. “I was feeling sentimental, I certainly hope these clothes don’t bring any bad luck to San Francisco.” He retorted jokingly, straightening his lapels. 

“So do I! I’d hate to rip another hole in the fabric of reality!” She called from the kitchen, putting the kettle on. “Oh yes, I certainly don’t think the Eye of Harmony would appreciate being opened again.” He picked up the newspaper from the table. “Oh, and Earl Grey, please.” Grace looked over, bewildered for a moment before remembering his psychic ability. “Of course.” He turned to the next page. “Not quite the American dream, they dreamed about? Grace, do you know anything about what makes Humans believe in some sort of ideal dream?” He folded the newspaper, propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. “Believe me, Doctor, if I knew I would be a philosopher!” She chuckled, grabbing a plate and placing some biscuits on it. “Yes, I do suppose so.” He smirked, going back to the newspaper. “Still. It makes you wonder what makes Americans think they’re so.. superior. No offense, of course!” He continued reading, flipping to the comics page instead. “None taken.” She took the kettle and poured some of the water into his teacup, placing it on the plate alongside the biscuits. 

“We have a lot to catch up on, Doctor.” Grace brought his tea over to him, sitting on a chair adjacent to his. “Yes, Grace. We do.”


End file.
